


in the moment we're ten feet tall

by inconocible



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e15-16 Family Reunion – and Farewell, Extended Scene, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Ghosts, Gen, Goodbyes, Not Fixing The Plot But Fixing My Heart, Scene Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inconocible/pseuds/inconocible
Summary: “I love you, Ezra!” Kanan calls, his voice lingering and echoing in Ezra’s mind, warmth still radiating from the place where their bond once was, even as the temple begins to fall around him, even as Ezra turns and runs, even as Palpatine’s projection flickers frighteningly into his Sith lord persona.or: Palpatine tempts Ezra with an additional possibility during Family Reunion and Farewell.





	in the moment we're ten feet tall

**Author's Note:**

> oh, lights go down  
> in the moment we're lost and found  
> and i just wanna be by your side  
> if these wings could fly  
> oh, damn these walls  
> in the moment we're ten feet tall  
> and how you told me after it all  
> we'd remember tonight  
> for the rest of our [lives](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtBcwEphCZs)

“That will be all, Grand Admiral,” the projection of Palpatine says.

The room is awash in the coldness Ezra’s come to associate with the Dark Side, and the gnawing feeling of this being it, of wondering how in the nine hells he’s gonna walk away from this one, grows larger in the pit of his stomach, even as he feels dismay rising alongside it as he realizes what the massive structure in the room is.

Thrawn bows, turns away, leaves. Ezra turns, watches him as he goes, but turns back to the projection of Palpatine when he speaks.

“I apologize for not being there in person, but, governing the galaxy takes up much of my time,” Palpatine says, haughty, the overworked ruler in his outward appearance, but Ezra knows better -- knows much, much better.

“I know who you are,” Ezra says, “and _what_ you are.”

“You misjudge me,” Palpatine says. “Can you not see the opportunity that stands here before you?” He gestures behind him, to the section of the temple.

“I see a part of the Jedi temple, which you stole from Lothal,” Ezra says, a rush of anger swelling in his chest once again, feeling sick of seeing pieces of his home on display in this ship, of the way the Imperials flaunt their theft and appropriations.

“I had this portion of the Temple moved here, stone by stone, for you,” Palpatine says. “Forgive me, but I would have thought you would thank me for this effort.”

“ _Thank_ you?” Ezra asks indignantly. “Thank you for destroying the temple? For imprisoning my people? For killing my parents? For murdering my master?”

“My dear boy, it’s you who chose to destroy the temple,” Palpatine chides, and Ezra’s feelings are nearly boiling in his blood, though he’s trying to release his anger to the Force, to reach for calmness, clarity of mind, his center.

“The actions of your rebel friends require a firm hand to ensure that there is order on Lothal,” Palpatine continues, and Ezra clenches his fists, feeling his wrists strain against the binders. “As for your parents, allow me to offer what might have been, and what yet may be.”

Palpatine turns again, gestures through the temple doorway. Ezra warily approaches, steps forward despite his best judgement, his curiosity piqued by the light he can see at the end of the hall.

“Dinner’s ready, Ezra,” someone’s calling, and he _knows_ that voice. It’s his mom, and his heart clenches in his chest. “Ezra?” she calls again, echoey, faint, other-worldly.

“They are waiting for you,” Palpatine says, impossibly kindly. “Go to them. Open the door. This is what you want, isn’t it? The life you deserved.”

Ezra shakes his head. “But it can’t be,” he says.

“Yes, it can,” Palpatine counters, “but you must choose to make it so.”

Turmoil and conflict churn in Ezra’s mind, in his chest, and he clenches his eyes shut, trying to think. “Ezra?” Mom calls again. Ezra sighs, walks a little closer to the light and the sound of her voice, faintly aware of the projection of Palpatine following him.

“Ezra,” she’s calling, “I made your favorite!”

“The gateway will not be open forever,” Palpatine says. “Go now, before it’s too late.”

Grief, grief and regret and sadness threaten to overtake him, and his throat is tight, but he struggles to hold everything back, still highly suspicious of Palpatine behind him.

“No,” Ezra says, trying to bring strength into his voice, into his resolve, trying to not let his feelings overwhelm him, even as he stares at the hazy figure of his mom in front of him. “This is a lie. They died. I -- I felt it. My parents are a part of me, but I can never have that life with them. I learned to let go. I know this is wrong.”

“Ah,” Palpatine says. “Yes, yes. Perhaps I underestimated you, Ezra Bridger. Perhaps I underestimated the role that your master played, the help he gave you when they died, yes? Kanan Jarrus was a strong and compassionate Jedi master indeed.”

Ezra flinches at the sound of Kanan’s name in Palpatine’s mouth. “He was strong,” Ezra says. “And wise, and kind, and brave. And he never left me alone.” Ezra turns to face Palpatine, the idea of Kanan lending him strength even as it brings him sadness, turns his back on the apparition of his parents. “And I know, if he were here, he’d say this is a trick,” he says.

“Ah,” Palpatine says again. “Yes, your master molded you into the young Jedi Padawan you are today.” Palpatine narrows his eyes thoughtfully at Ezra.

“Kanan Jarrus’s death has been the most difficult thing you’ve ever faced, hasn’t it,” Palpatine says perceptively, not quite a question, that false kind air still in his voice. “How are you managing to go on without him?” he asks, his voice dropping nearly to a whisper. “I know it’s been so hard for you, dear boy. Losing your master like that. Watching him sacrifice himself for you.”

“Don’t talk about him,” Ezra grits out, overwhelmed by his feelings, Palpatine’s words increasingly affecting his focus. “You don’t have the right. Just like you don’t have the right to this temple,” he says, gesturing around at the stone walls.

“Oh, Ezra Bridger, you poor, sad, masterless Padawan,” Palpatine says pityingly. “I see so clearly now. Your master helped you through the loss of your parents, but there’s been no one to help you through the loss of your master.”

Ezra squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head, struggles not to let Palpatine’s quiet, sympathetic voice slither into his mind, but it’s too late. He can feel tears leaking through his eyelashes, and he can feel his resolve weakening, Palpatine’s words hitting far too close to his heart.

“All you want is to be with him again,” Palpatine observes. “Your grief makes you weak. Lost.”

“That’s not true,” Ezra croaks.

“My dear boy,” Palpatine says. “You know as well as I that you were willing to do anything to save him, that you were prepared to step in to die for him, had Ahsoka Tano not stopped you.”

“You’re lying,” Ezra says, but his voice breaks, betraying him.

“Ezra!” another voice calls out, behind him, and Ezra can’t believe his ears.

“No,” Ezra gasps. “No, no, this is a lie,” but the voice calls for him again, a voice Ezra would know anywhere, a voice Ezra would follow to hell and back.

“Ezra? Ah, where is that kid?” Kanan says.

“It’s a lie,” Ezra insists, but he can’t not turn and look anyway, everything in him yearning for Kanan.

The hazy scene in front of him is clearer, now, and Ezra feels his eyes widen in longing and horror as a beautiful, unreal scene is laid out before him, a room with a thousand fountains, bright with sunlight and greenery, a place he recognizes immediately, despite never having seen it himself.

“Ezra?” Kanan calls again, walking into view, into the foreground of the scene before Ezra.

“Kanan?” Ezra breathes, and he takes a shuddering breath, swipes at his face with his bound hands, drinking Kanan in. He looks _good_ : Like he always has, like his old self, his hair and beard long, but his eyes are clear, clear and undamaged, the way they looked in the split second before the explosion. “This is not real,” Ezra says, half to himself.

“You know it is possible to change fate,” Palpatine says. “There are infinite paths and infinite possibilities, but you must open the door.”

Ezra almost answers Palpatine, but he gets distracted again by the sound of Kanan’s voice. “Kiddo?” Kanan’s calling. “Are you coming?”

Ezra is transfixed, stands and stares at Kanan. “Kanan,” Ezra says in a small, scared voice, “I’m here,” but somehow Kanan can’t hear him, turns and looks around the room.

It all feels wrong, and the conflict raging within Ezra arrests him, makes it so difficult to do what he knows he needs to do, to turn away. Two more people walk into the scene in front of him, people he’s never met and yet would know anywhere: Masters Windu and Billaba.

“Is your padawan here?” Master Billaba asks.

“Not yet,” Kanan answers, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t know what’s happening. I can feel him close, but.” He sighs, shakes his head.

Master Billaba lays her hand on Kanan’s shoulder. “Patience,” she says.

Ezra’s chest is tight, and he realizes that what’s in front of him, what he’s being offered, is nothing short of a miracle: A life with Kanan, with their whole line, in the tranquility of the Jedi temple, unmarred by war.

“He’ll be here soon,” Master Windu says.

“Something’s not right,” Kanan says, his brow furrowing. “Ezra?” he calls again.

“So few have a choice to live the life they want,” Palpatine says, insistent, and Ezra arches an eyebrow, glances back over his shoulder. Why is Palpatine pushing this so hard? It’s tempting, though, it’s so unbelievably tempting, and Ezra takes another couple steps closer, longing for Kanan, for the still-painful scar in his mind where their bond once was to be healed. “Why deny yourself?” Palpatine asks.

Ezra’s inner turmoil churns in his stomach, reaches up through his throat, becomes words. “Kanan?” he asks, soft, hesitant. “Masters?” he says, “I’m here,” and he feels his hands reaching of their own volition toward the scene in front of him.

Kanan gasps softly, whips his head around toward the doorway. “Ezra?” he calls.

Ezra feels the cuffs fall from his wrists, turns and looks at Palpatine, curious about why he’s been freed.

“There,” Palpatine says, gesturing toward an inset section of the wall, and Ezra turns, sees what he’s pointing out. “The control for the gateway,” Palpatine clarifies. “Activate it, and you can be with your master again.”

Kanan and Masters Billaba and Windu have turned, are all looking right at Ezra.

“Ezra, there you are,” Kanan says, relief and affection in his voice. “Come on, kiddo. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“What about my friends?” Ezra asks. “The -- the rest of our family?”

“If you open the gateway, you will save your master,” Palpatine says. “He shall live.”

Ezra struggles, struggles in his heart with what to do. Shockingly, he can feel his bond in the Force with Kanan, faint, struggling to spark back to life, a strange, melancholic current of pain and grief and longing flooding the empty space in his psyche. The idea of Kanan, the echo of him, is so strong in Ezra’s mind now, overwhelming him, making it so difficult to think of anything but activating the control, taking the half-dozen steps through the doorway, launching himself into Kanan’s arms.

The three of them, Kanan and his master and her master, are still looking at him, but their expressions have turned curious, near-frowns, like they know something’s amiss. All three of them step closer to the edge of the gateway, and Ezra reaches for the control, his left hand hovering so close to it, wanting, so badly, to mend the pain he feels, to reconnect.

So close, he thinks, if he just reaches out, he can --

“Go on,” Palpatine says. “You deserve this.”

Kanan draws nearer to the edge of the doorway, and Ezra reaches for him with his right hand, his left still hovering over the controls. The deep wave of longing and grief  that’s risen in him crests, threatens to overtake him, and he can feel tears brimming in his eyes again, his throat so tight that it alters his breath, forces him to start taking short, shallow breaths.

Kanan reaches out for him, too, and Ezra nearly expects to be able to feel the warmth of his hands. “Kanan?” Ezra asks again.

“Come on Ezra, cross over, we’re right here,” Kanan says, and Ezra shakes his head, torn. “What’s wrong?” Kanan asks, concern seeping into his voice. He turns, glances back at Masters Billaba and Windu. “Master, why can’t he --” Their frowns deepen, and Kanan turns back to Ezra. “Can you hear me, kiddo?” Kanan says.

Ezra nods, sniffles, swipes at his face. “Yeah,” he says.

“I can’t feel you,” Kanan says. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Ezra says, reaching for Kanan in the Force, but still finding nothing, just the echo of him, the idea of him, pain in the place where their severed bond lies. “Kanan, I miss you so much,” he gasps around a sob. “I don’t know what to do.”

Kanan’s frown deepens. “I miss you too, Ezra,” he says, soft, sad.

“But we shouldn’t be able to see you like this,” Master Billaba says, kind, thoughtful, and she takes a couple steps forward, lays her hand on Kanan’s shoulder again. “Unless -- unless you’re dying. But you should have been able to cross by now, if you are.”

“What?” Ezra asks. “I’m not dying.” He frowns, considers this, trying to think through the haze of grief and conflict clouding his mind. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

“Wait, where are you?” Kanan asks.

“I’m on Thrawn’s ship,” Ezra says. “Palpatine took part of the Jedi temple from Lothal, and he brought it here, and --”

Master Windu has folded his arms across his chest, and he huffs out a sigh. “This is a trap,” he says decisively, shaking his head. “You should not be here. You need to go, now. Destroy whatever treacherous means Palpatine is using to summon us here.”

“But,” Ezra starts. “Palpatine’s right, Kanan, losing you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I know I shouldn’t, but I -- I wanna stay with you.”

“You can’t,” Kanan says sadly. “If you’re not dying, you can’t cross. It would change everything.”

“But, Kanan --” Ezra says, still reaching for him, everything inside him screaming out to cross the distance. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he says, another quiet sob escaping him.

“Ezra,” Kanan says again, gentle, loving. “I didn’t think we needed to. You know I’ll always be with you.”

“I know,” Ezra says, but his voice breaks. “I know. It’s just so hard to let go.”

“I know,” Kanan says. “I know it is. But you’re doing such a good job. You’ve been so strong.”

Ezra looks up at him, blinks away his tears, wipes at his face. “Really?”

“Really,” Kanan says. “I know you can stay strong a little longer, finish what you have to do.” Kanan sighs. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” he says, his voice dipping soft, low, affectionate.

“What is your choice, Ezra Bridger?” Palpatine calls out, behind him, and Ezra startles.

“Uh, I’m still thinking,” he yells over his shoulder, and something sinister and cold shifts in the Force around him.

“The gateway will close soon!” Palpatine says. “What are you waiting for? You want this, you want a life of peace with your master more than anything. Just let go.”

“You need to get out of here,” Master Windu says. Master Billaba nods.

“Okay,” Ezra says, but he can’t take his eyes off of Kanan, doesn’t want to have to leave him again.

“Wait,” Kanan says. “Wait, Master, I --”

Master Windu huffs out a sigh. “All right, but make it quick,” he says. “I fear what may happen if we don’t break this connection in time.”

Master Billaba looks at Ezra. “Kneel, Ezra, please,” she says, smiling, pulling her lightsaber from her belt, handing it over to Kanan.

Ezra’s eyes widen. “Wait,” he says, “are you seriously --”

A smile has crossed Kanan’s face. “Yeah,” he says. “I am.” He ignites the saber, and Ezra kneels, looking up at Kanan, locking eyes with him, blown away briefly by the fact that they’re really doing this, really able to see each other in this moment.

Kanan moves the saber from one side of Ezra to the other, and somehow, Ezra knows, if they could touch, the saber would be just above his shoulders.

“By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, you may rise, Ezra Bridger, Jedi Knight,” Kanan says, affectionate and proud, and his smile is genuine and crooked and huge, and Ezra realizes with a jolt that Kanan is crying, a few silent tears of joy slipping down his face.

A warmth fills Ezra’s chest, something like the echo of Kanan ringing out in the place where their bond should be -- but there’s nothing painful about the echo anymore. There’s calmness there now, love, support, pride, wholeness. A sense of purpose, of peace.

“I know what I have to do, Kanan,” Ezra says, standing up. “I don’t want to say goodbye, but I’m going to protect our family, protect Lothal.”

“It’s not goodbye,” Kanan says. “It’s see you later. I promise we’ll see each other again. And now you know what we have to look forward to. But I hope it’s a long time from now.”

“Me too,” Ezra says. He turns to Masters Billaba and Windu. “Masters,” Ezra says, bowing his head in respect. “I’ll see you again.”

“Yes, you will,” Master Windu says.

“We are with you, Ezra,” Master Billaba adds.

“I’m so proud of you, Ezra,” Kanan says again. “I’ll always be with you. And --” Kanan sighs, wipes a tear from his cheek. “I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too, Kanan,” Ezra says, and he’s crying again, too, but they’re tears of joy, of relief. “But I have to let you go.”

“May the Force be with you, Ezra Bridger, Jedi Knight,” Kanan says, and he winks, his crooked grin something that Ezra drinks in, tries to commit to his permanent memory.

“May the Force be with you,” Masters Billaba and Windu say.

“May the Force be with you,” Ezra replies, reaching out, reaching for the Force, concentrating on ending this charade, on giving the souls of his masters before him the peace they deserve.

Ezra can faintly hear Palpatine yell, “No!” behind him, but he doesn’t care what the trickster Sith wants anymore. He reaches out, pushes in the Force, feels pieces of the temple start to crumble around him.

“I love you, Ezra!” Kanan calls, his voice lingering and echoing in Ezra’s mind, warmth still radiating from the place where their bond once was, even as the temple begins to fall around him, even as Ezra turns and runs, even as Palpatine’s projection flickers frighteningly into his Sith lord persona.

Ezra runs, and he dives away as the stones from the temple crash to the floor. He sits up, turns, looks back at the rubble, his inner conflict gone, feeling more balanced and centered than he has since before Kanan’s death. Even as Palpatine approaches him with anger on his face, Ezra closes his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, and he smiles, the way Kanan said _Ezra Bridger, Jedi Knight_ reverberating through him, bolstering him.

Ezra gets up, faces Palpatine’s projection, feeling the chill of the Dark Side wash over him, but feeling warm and secure in the Light within himself, in Kanan’s love, strong in his mind.

“You’re wrong,” Ezra says. “I have a family. I’ll always have my master. And I am a Jedi Knight. I don’t need anything from you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just finished rewatching rebels, and the idea of this small semi-fix-it started rattling around in my brain when i started s4, and i couldn't not write it down. i fear that it feels a little different from my usual ficlets, because scene rewrites are not at all what i usually do - but i knew i needed it, to help heal the painful little cracks in my heart that family reunion and farewell makes.
> 
> yelling about rebels 24/7 on [tumblr](https://inconocible.tumblr.com/).


End file.
